


I Meant It

by alisvolatpropriis67



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Big Brother Dean, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Brotherly Affection, Coming Out, Cuddles, Episode: s12e12 Stuck In The Middle (With You), First Kiss, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Homophobic John Winchester, Homophobic Slur (Past), M/M, Past Child Abuse, Past Dean/Original Male Character, Supportive Mary, Supportive Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-15 12:14:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11230743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alisvolatpropriis67/pseuds/alisvolatpropriis67
Summary: Cas is dying (scene from 12x12). Dean actually gives a response to Cas's "I love you" confession which Sam and Mary are privy to. Lots of hurt/comfort and feels for all characters! And I added my own twists so read the tags please :)





	1. I Love You

**Author's Note:**

> In the first chapter, I tried to keep some of the same dialogue that was in that scene in the episode, sorry if it sounds weird with my writing LOL. This is my first ever fanfic and post on A03 so be gentle with me! Please feel free to leave constructive criticism so that I can improve! Also I did my own editing so let me know if there are any grammar errors or if I need to add any tags! Thanks for reading! ;-)

 

"Cas how bad is it?" Dean asks, taking a step closer to his friend lying at his feet, Sam a solid line of heat at his side.

Cas reaches up and yanks his neckline to the side, revealing the spread of poisonous black-grey veins along his collarbone. Dean feels his hands tremble so he clenches them into fists, watching the sweat bead on the angel's forehead, his hands coated with his own blood and agonized groans pouring out of his mouth without his control.

This was the mouth of someone who usually offered a calm, rational rock for Dean to fall back on. Someone who talked like a freaking dictionary and held his body stiffly, as if he was still unused to inhabiting a vessel, even though Dean knows for a fact that Jimmy Novak is in heaven. Castiel's body really is his own now.

Cas releases his collar, shaking hands drifting back down to the wound in his abdomen. His eyes clench tight against the pain, his chest heaving.

"Crowley's right" he forces out, "You should go."

Dean feels a pang of anger run through his chest, and he tenses up, shifting his weight.

"Cas, come on." He responds, glad there is no noticeable waver in his voice.

Cas forces open his eyes, holding Dean's gaze forcefully, "No you listen to me. You...look... thank you. Thank you. Knowing you, it... it's been the best part of my life" Dean feels a pressure start to begin behind his eyes as he watches his best friend, clearly in agony, say goodbye to the Winchesters.

 He feels numb and shifts a little closer, his body tense and trembling minutely.

"And the things we've... the things we've shared together, they've changed me...", Cas looks at each of the Winchesters in turn before letting out another moan, his eyes filling with pain. 

Mary turns her head to look at Dean, her eyes filled with questions. What do we do? What can we do?

Dean meets his mother's eyes for a second, almost absently, but it's just enough time for Mary to be stunned by the level of pain carved deep into her son's eyes before he connects with Cas's again and then tears them away to glance at the floor, determined to hold at least some semblance of a mask. Dean feels like screaming, punching the wall, crying, anything. 

Anything but watch his best friend die. 

Dean feels Cas's gaze on him again, the bond he's felt since day one with this angel physically pulling at his chest, the slight flicker he feels whenever their eyes meet calling to him. 

Dean feels his own brow crease as he refuses to look up, and forces back the burning warmth he can feel in his throat, behind his eyes. He hears Cas take a shuddering breath and the next sentence almost breaks him.

"You're my family"

Dean's head shoots up, his jaw clenching.

Cas's eyes flicker to his for a second before looking off to the side, somewhere behind Dean.

"I love you." He hears, and has to fight back a sob deep in his chest, to force himself not to kneel down and touch Cas, embrace him, grab his hand, anything to make him stay.

Castiel's eyes rise up, making contact with each of the Winchesters, coming back to Dean's face a second time.

"I love all of you."

Dean stares back at his friend, a searing painful ache in the pit of his stomach and tears burning the back of his eyes as he holds the gaze. Dean feels frozen in place, in shock. 

After everything, this was how Cas was going to die? From what was meant to be a simple demon hunt? His best friend in the world, his partner, his angel.

Dean finds himself stepping forward into a crouch, then falling onto his knees. 

Mary's hand falls away from Cas's shoulder as she sits back on her heels, shifting back a few feet to rest on her knees as well. 

Dean can feel Sam standing still behind him, and just knows that the full force of his puppy dog eyes are being sent Cas's way. Dean registers his family and his surroundings subconsciously, focused solely on Cas.

He feels as though he is in a daze, slipping his hand over the fist that Cas has pressing over his wound, curling his fingers over Cas's fingers and unconsciously stroking his thumb back and forth over the thin bones and warm skin sticky with blood.

Sam watches his brother with his hand gently clasped around the angel's, surprised at his brother's blatant display of affection, and feels his stomach drop. If Cas dies here tonight, Dean will never be the same.

Sam knows that as Dean's little brother; the man who Dean has raised as his own from the moment John passed Sam into Dean's arms and told him to run; that he holds the most important position in Dean's life.

He also knows that when they met Cas, Dean's world shifted to include one more, not a brother, but a best friend. One of the only friends who has been there through it all, who has always come back for the Winchesters, with whom Dean shares that "profound bond".

If Cas dies, a part of Dean will die too.

Sam watches his brother and their angel, hands clenched tightly together and eyes locked in the same gaze that they'd been falling into since day one. 

Dean takes a deep breath, shifting closer to the angel. Cas  has his head tilted back against the cushion, chest heaving as he pants with pain, but he stares back at Dean with warmth in his eyes, still clear as the sky and deep blue.

Dean drops his head for a second to collect himself, but looking back up, he catches Cas's face trying to shift away from what it fell into when Dean broke eye contact. 

Cas is trying to mask the fact that tears had flooded his eyes, his forehead creasing with the effort of holding back sobs of pain.

Dean tightens his hand on Cas's, and Cas's mouth twitches into what's meant to be a wry smile, one of his shoulders lifting in a tiny shrug.

The movement breaks Dean, and he surges forward on his knees, tilting Cas's head back and sealing his mouth gently to his best friend's without a second thought. 

Dean barely registers the sharp intakes of breath coming from Sam and Mom. His shoulders draw up as he grasps Cas's face, his body arching over the angel's, the tension coiled in his back rivaling the tenderness of his touch. Cas takes only a half a second to respond, his soft lips pressing back and sliding into place with Dean's. It's chaste but somehow deep and heartbreaking.

Beneath the horror that Dean feels at this moment, and the anger that Cas is dying, Dean is also categorizing everything he can feel during this kiss. 

This, Dean thinks to himself foggily, this feels like coming home.

Cas's lips are softer than he imagined, their noses press gently against the other and Dean can feel Cas's scruff where his hand cradles his jawline. His body tingles where they touch and Dean can feel Cas's energy thrumming beneath the surface of his warm skin.

When Dean pulls back a few inches they both release their breath in a rush, the air mingling between them. Cas's eyes are wide, the awe in them momentarily shrouding his pain.

•••

Sam stands behind Dean, dumbfounded. His mind races as Sam tries to figure out what he's missed all this time, how his womanizing, macho, tough as nails brother is suddenly comfortable kissing his best, and very male, friend. Sam shakes his head and closes his mouth, which has fallen open in shock. Not the time. 

Sam ducks his head for a second as he feels his chest tighten at the emotion reflecting in their eyes.

Dean has his left hand shoved up behind Cas's neck, fingers curled into the sweaty locks at the base of his skull, his right hand still tight around Cas's.

Dean can see tears pouring down Castiel's cheeks now and knows that it's a reflection of his own face.

"Shit", Dean chokes out quietly, pressing forward again to bury his face into Cas's neck, breathing in the scent of salty tears and blood, but also the scent of springtime and freshwater, a scent he has come to identify as purely Cas, the angel. 

Dean shudders as he feels Cas's free hand slide up his arm to the shoulder where his handprint used to lie, clenching onto the muscle with weakened, but still inhuman strength.

Dean presses his lips to Cas's collarbone, face hidden from his family surrounding them and breathes the words, "I love you" into the skin there.

He hears Cas let out a small involuntary gasp when he interprets the movement, and  feels Cas's body relax a little into the cushions of the ruined couch they are pressed against, melting against Dean's hands.

After a few more seconds of simply breathing each other in, Dean pulls back and lowers himself to sit back on his knees, clearing his throat, but refusing to take his hands away, ignoring the feeling of his family's eyes on the two of them. He meets Cas's glistening eyes, and recognizes what's burning there, because it is no doubt reflecting in his own. 

Dean shifts his hand from the back of Cas's neck to sweep over his jaw and then up to his forehead, brushing back the tangled mess of pitch black hair there.

Cas turns his face into Dean's palm and closes his eyes for a moment, taking deep breaths, the perfect position for Dean to smooth out the wrinkles etched between Cas's eyebrows with his thumb. His hand cradles Cas's forehead in an intimate imitation of taking his temperature. They sit like that for a few seconds until the sound of Sam shifting his weight interrupts the gentle silence. Cas takes a shuddering breath and says quietly, his words growing in strength as he slowly turns to face the Winchesters again. 

Dean's hand drops to rest alongside his neck, "Please... please... Don't make my last moments be spent watching you die. Just run. Save yourselves".

Dean's face hardens as he glares at Cas and holds him down by the shoulders as he starts to move, trying to sit up.

"I will hold Ramiel off as long as I can" Cas finishes, coughing.

"Cas. No." Dean grits out, hands still gripping onto his angel, pushing him back into the cushions.

"Yes! You need to keep fighting!" Cas argues, eyes boring into Dean's.

Dean can't speak, his frustration and grief silencing his vocal chords. He hears his brother shift behind him and clear his throat lightly, "We are fighting. We're fighting for you, Cas." Dean hears him say with force. 

Sudden and fierce love and affection for his little brother rises in his chest and it allows Dean to release his breath and nod.

"And like you said, you're family. And we don't leave family behind."

Cas's eyes move from Sam to Dean, and Dean can see a new batch of tears flooding his eyes in gratitude.

Dean can feel Sam and his Mom watching him, but he ignores them, leaning towards Cas and cradling the side of his face again, pressing their foreheads together, his eyes closing for a split second before he pulls back and stands up.

Dean walks several feet away from Cas, and turns around, watching Sam lean down to grip Cas on the shoulder for a second before joining Dean and their Mom.

Dean meets his brother's eyes, wary about what he will find there but knowing now is not the time for sharing and caring about his completely unexpected reveal of gay love for their best friend.

All he finds is determination, surprise and confusion, along with a sliver of pride before Sam shoves it aside, giving Dean a nod so small anyone else who wasn't Dean would have missed it. 

He feels a small part of his chest unclench at that, but the ache is still there as he listens to the ragged breaths of Cas a few feet away.

"So what's the play?" Mary asks, calling Dean's attention to her from where his eyes have drifted to the body lying across the room.

"We hit him with everything we got" Dean responds, his voice  tense and wavering with anger.


	2. Let's Go Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas is healed, Sam and Mary talk and Dean doesn't repress his feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not in love with the dialogue I wrote for Sam and Mary, but it needed to be explained so I'm just going to leave it as is for now. Let me know your thoughts!

"We hit him with everything we got".

And they do. They trap Ramiel in a circle of holy fire, and its all Dean can do not rush at the Prince of Hell, grab him by the throat and demand that he fix Castiel.

  
When Ramiel announces that there is no cure, Dean hears Cas's breath hitch from across the room, can feel the disappointment and grief radiating from the angel.  
Dean feels overwhelmed: confusion about the Prince's accusation of thievery; anger and rage when Ramiel's timer runs out and the real fighting starts; and then a mix of triumph and regret when Sam stabs the Prince with the lance, and he explodes in a cloud of ash... because the threat is gone but his angel is still dying.  
He feels as though his heart is being ripped out of his chest when the screaming start.

  
The Winchesters run to Cas, and Dean collapses to his knees a second after Sam does.

  
"Hey Cas! We're right here buddy"

Sam says hoarsely, looking at Dean, searching his big brother's face for an answer, for the cure.  
"Hang in there all right?!" Sam continues, looking between Cas and Dean again.

  
"What do we do?" He asks Dean, eyes filled with grief.

  
Dean feels numb and his body starts to tremble as he watches black tar start to pour out of his angel's mouth, his body seizing. He grasps Cas's hand tightly, too tight, and feels the angel squeeze weakly back. He rests his free hand on Cas's opposite hipbone, digging his thumb into the soft skin there, covering the black veins pulsing across pale skin with his hand. Their eyes meet and Dean savors the connection, eyes dry, but he can feel sobs and screams building deep in the caverns of his chest.

  
Cas's eyes start to lose their focus and his head lolls limply on his neck.

  
Suddenly, a snap resounds from behind them and he turns his head only to be blinded by light. The same burning white-blue of Castiel's grace.

  
Dean ducks his head and angles it towards his angel, only to find the same light burning from Cas's direction as well. When the light starts to fade, Dean opens his eyes, blinking past the black spots invading his vision just in time to watch the piercing glow of Cas's grace shining through his pupils fade into their regular crystal blue.

  
"The magic's in the craftsmanship" he hears Crowley say from behind them, but doesn't turn his head to look as he tries to absorb the fact that Cas is alive. The black veins and tar-like liquid are gone. Cas's tie is still askew and his shirt unbuttoned and bloody, but he is healed.

  
Cas looks down at himself and only raises his eyes to Dean's when he startles Cas out of his shock by reaching forward to frantically run his hands over his friend's torso. He finds only solid warmth, unbroken skin and the scruff of his cheeks.

  
Cas releases a breath, grabbing Dean's hands and cradling them in his own, holding Dean's gaze and nodding.

  
Dean feels his whole body fall limp, and his eyes burn from more tears, this time out of the overwhelming relief he feels that Cas is whole and strong and breathing.

  
Dean lets his left hand slide out of Cas's to support his own body as he shifts into a crouch to face Crowley in his kneeling position, but leaves the other hand to stay clenched within his friend's grasp.  
"Well, you're welcome." Crowley drawls pompously, rolling his eyes and dropping the broken lance to the floor with a clang.

  
•••

  
Silence falls the moment the lance stops rolling on the ground.

  
"Cas... are you okay?" Mary asks hesitantly.

  
"Yes... I... appear to be healed." Cas responds, and shifts as if to sit up.

  
Dean rocks back onto his heels and stands, never once letting go of his hand and helps pull Cas up to a standing position.

  
Sam steps past them, clapping a hand on Cas's shoulder on his way and squeezing.

  
"I'm glad you're okay, man", he tells Cas, clearing his throat.

  
"Thank you Sam", Cas murmurs, nodding to him.

  
Dean steps closer and reaches down to untie the bloody fabric that Mary had used to bind the wound around Cas's abdomen, throwing it to the side and starting to button up the rest of Castiel's shirt.

  
Suddenly finding it hard to meet Cas's eyes, Dean focuses on the task at hand, silently registering the fact that Sam and Mary are gathering the weapons littered on the floor and walking to wait by the entrance of the barn, talking softly.

  
Dean finishes the buttons and reaches for Cas's tie, tightening the knot and smoothing it over his chest. He reaches up again and flips the tie upside down as a second thought.

  
"Dean", he hears Cas breathe softly.

  
Dean freezes in place, fingers still on Cas's tie, and squeezes his eyes shut, giving a short shake of the head.

  
He jumps when he feels Cas's hands on his face, thumbs stroking below his eyes, wiping at fresh tears he didn't know were there.

  
"Dean", he hears again, this time in a pleading tone that he has rarely heard come out of Cas's mouth and that's what breaks him.

  
Dean surges forward, as he had while Cas lay dying, but this time simply for the purpose of holding him. The breathing, warm, stick-up-the-ass, messy-haired, ALIVE version of him.

  
Cas catches Dean around the waist as he slams into him.  
Dean buries his face in Cas's neck and wraps his arms around Cas's shoulders, squeezing his best friend tightly.

  
•••

  
Sam and Mary watch as the angel gently strokes Dean's glistening face and as Dean throws himself into Cas's arms, melting into the embrace.

  
"Um... have they...is this... are they together?" Mary asks quietly, hesitantly.

  
"As of twenty minutes ago I'd say hell no, that dad raised Dean to be a homophobic ass, and that Dean's as straight as they come, but apparently I was wrong", Sam says, sighing and shaking his head in bemusement.

  
A small involuntary smile flickers across his face, "To be honest they've always been strangely close, 'cause of their bond and Cas's mark that Dean used to carry on his arm after Hell. But I never expected this... at all" Sam continues, quirking an eyebrow and turning to glance over at them again, "...I mean, I can't honestly say the thought hasn't EVER crossed my mind... their extended eye contact can get uncomfortable for anyone watching, but I'd just always shot the idea down cause Cas is a guy, I just thought it was their thing. They've been through so much together", Sam muses, shrugging and facing Mary again.

  
Mary nods slowly, eyes wide.  
"...a bond? What...", she trails off, shooting another glance over to her eldest.

  
"Cas called it a "profound bond" one time", Sam replies frowning in thought, "I did some research after I got out of Hell, and puzzled out the rest from comments made by demons and angels over the years. I had always wondered why I didn't have a mark anywhere on my body like Dean did. The handprint was the burn left by his grace when Cas was trying to integrate Dean's soul with his body, while simultaneously healing Dean physically. I don't think Dean knows all the details, but from what I understand, Cas basically left traces of his grace in the process... in Dean's soul."

  
Sam shrugs, "I didn't have a mark because somehow my soul was left behind. Cas didn't know. He thought my soul was already in my body. So the integration process was never performed".

  
Mary nods again and lets out a deep breath, "Okay."

  
"Okay?" Sam asks warily, "You're...okay with Dean and Cas... together?"

  
Mary sighs, "Well it'll take a little time to get used to, the eighties were a different time, but... Sam, you just stabbed a Prince of Hell, and then the King of Hell just saved your best friend, who happens to be an Angel of the Lord, by snapping the Lance of Michael in half. We live strange lives. You're brother falling in love with an angel feels kind of par for the course".

  
Sam barks out a laugh, looking over at the tight embrace Cas has his big brother in, feeling warmth spread in his chest at the sight, "Point taken."

  
•••

  
Cas can still feel tremors shuddering through Dean's body. He runs his hands up and down the hunter's spine, basking in the feeling of being held.

  
Castiel remembers short, quick "I'm glad you're not dead" hugs from his eight years of knowing the Winchesters, but never before had they, especially Dean, tried to initiate an embrace such as this one.

  
Castiel feels the wetness from Dean's tears soaking the collar of his shirt, but the tense muscles along his back start to relax as he sinks into Castiel's hold. Dean's breath plays warmly over his neck, seeming to sink down straight to bone.

  
Carefully laying his cheek on top of Dean's, Cas slows the movement of his hands and then pulls back, grasping Dean's shoulders to hold him in place, since the hunter seems unwilling to let go.

  
Dean takes a deep breath as he withdraws and steels himself to meet the angel's gaze.

  
The moment his eyes lock on the crystal blue, the rest of the tension knotted in his stomach unravels.

  
The two stare at each other for a minute, bond pulsing between the them; grace and soul; a simple communication of relief and understanding.

  
Finally registering the sounds of low voices from across the room, Dean glances toward the door where Mary is now illuminated by the glow of her phone, murmuring to Sam, who is leaning against the doorway, absently tracing the runes etched onto the sides of the broken lance, glancing over to check on his brother and angel occasionally.

  
"Okay" Dean finally says, drawing his gaze back to Cas's, "Let's go home."

  
Dean leans to pick up his gun from the floor, tucking it into the back of his jeans.

  
He turns to face the door, then just as quickly whips back around, one hand sliding into Cas's hair and the other hooked over his shoulder as he pulls Cas in, pressing his lips to his temple, burying his nose into the locks of silky black hair, and murmuring, "I meant it".

  
When he goes to pull away, Cas catches his wrist, forcing Dean to meet his gaze yet again.

  
"I did as well." He responds, eyes shining.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Chapter 3 should be up tomorrow. As always, comments and constructive criticism always appreciated ;) Have a wonderful day everyone!


	3. Wish I Knew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Driving back to the bunker, Dean tells Sam and Mary the truth, and the past is revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for past child abuse and homophobic slurs, read the tags please! It was also brought to my attention that I may have gone overboard in regards to John. He is one of my favorite characters (and I love JDM), but this chapter portrays him in a very negative light not supported by canon! I branched off from the show and altered his character, so if you are offended, it is not my intention. Thanks guys! Enjoy!

Dean feels Cas's warmth trailing behind him as they stride up to where Mary and Sam are standing.

  
His stomach flutters as he remembers what they had witnessed; his unintentional, and frankly completely unexpected coming out moment.

  
He shoots a quick glance at Sam, to find him already staring at Dean with a small, curious upturn of the mouth. His expression is otherwise unreadable and Dean feels his stomach drop.

  
Sam must see something in Dean's face because his expression shifts and Dean reads the unspoken message there, talk later.

  
Dean rolls his eyes at his little brother and strides out the door, "Let's go", he says gruffly, feeling heat rise in his cheeks.

  
Cas moves up next to him, their shoulders brushing as they walk towards the car.

  
"I will follow you back to the bunker, Dean," Cas says, turning his head to meet Dean's eyes.

  
Dean nods shortly, feeling his shoulders slump at having to let his best friend out of his sight only minutes after a near death call.

  
"I'll see you at home," Cas adds, his gaze flickering over Dean's shoulders, which are wrought with tension yet again. He gently slips his hand into Dean's for a second before sliding away, leaving their hands tingling from the touch.

  
Dean's eyes shoot up and lock with Cas's, a faint smile appearing across his face before he ducks his head and stops in front of the Impala, reflexively unlocking the door but keeping his eyes on Cas's back as he walks towards the truck.

  
Sam gets into the passenger seat as Mary climbs in the back, and they watch as Dean waits for Cas to get into the truck before clearing his throat, thumping the roof of the car with his palm and sliding into the car.

  
Sam watches his brother's unreadable expression but is not fooled by the tic in his jaw or the way he taps his thumbs impatiently on the steering wheel as he pulls onto the main road, Cas's truck following close behind.

  
"Cas is okay." Sam finally offers after a few minutes of no sound, save the rumble of the engine, not missing the fact that Dean has been checking his side mirrors for Cas's truck every thirty seconds.

  
Dean's jaw tenses further and he shifts subtly in his seat, nodding tightly.

  
"Yeah" He says hoarsely, then clearing his throat, "Yeah, I know."

  
They say nothing for another mile until Sam finally huffs and turns to Dean.

  
"Come on man, you have to say something. I'm kind of at a loss here."

  
Dean's profile goes rigid, as if he's expecting yelling, or even a physical blow.

  
"I mean... Dean you know me. Of all people to be upset by what I just saw in there, me? You know me better than that, you raised me better than that!"

  
At these words, Mary turns her head around from the window to stare at her sons in confusion and feels a strange sense of dread at Sam's wording.

  
"I just want to understand Dean. I mean, I just wish I knew! What I saw in there feels really big, and important... but I never noticed. Please. Talk to me man."

  
Dean releases a tight breath and rolls his shoulders, refusing to look into the mirror to see the look on Mary's face, sure it's disgust or anger.

  
"I'm bisexual." He finally grits out, staring out the windshield with a deadpan expression.

  
"Yeah, Dean, I think I got that." Sam says with some amusement and exasperation.

  
"I mean..." Dean starts, grinding his back teeth together with frustration, willing Sam to understand.

  
"I mean that... I'm bisexual, I know that I am. I've always known."

  
Sam sucks in an almost inaudible breath.

  
"You mean... wait, when... when did you know? Or realize?" He asks, eyes glued to his older brother's face.

  
"Since that summer in Lansing, when we stayed at that crappy old grey house dad brought us to", Dean answers, hands tightening on the wheel.

  
"What... Dean. That fight... you were in the hospital... Don't tell me that was Dad. It was, wasn't it?", Sam asks in horror, his racing mind blocking his ability to string together a full sentence as he tries to connect the dots. He can feel his chest tighten and eyes prick.

  
"Yeah." Dean responds grimacing.

  
"God, Dean...I'm so sorry" Sam whispers, ducking his head for a second and then Dean can just feel the sad, teary, puppy-dog eyes aimed his way.

  
"Sammy... you were 11. And I lied to you, we both did. There's nothing you could've done, no way you could've known." Dean says, looking over to meet his brother's eyes for the first time since entering the car.

  
Sam huffs in anger and looks out the window. Dean watches in the window's reflection as his little brother tries to hide the fact that he's angrily wiping a tear off his right cheek.

  
"Sammy seriously. I mean it." Dean says gruffly, reaching over to grasp his forearm.

  
Sam nods and swallows, grabbing Dean's hand before he can pull away and holding it tightly, feeling his brother squeeze back before letting go and focusing on the road again.

  
"Am I allowed to know what you two are talking about?" Mary asks quietly from the backseat.

  
"I don't even know the whole story, so I guess it's up to Dean." Sam responds, releasing a pent up breath.

  
After a minute, Dean squares his shoulders and starts talking.

  
"You remember that kid I met at the high school? Brandon something?"

  
Sam nods, turning to face his brother again, an image filtering into his mind of a kid who followed Dean around like they were attached at the hip, his light grey-blue eyes offering a striking contrast to his dark brown skin.

  
"He uh... He was a good kid, straight A's, played soccer. I met him after one of the games. They had just lost, I was walking through the school parking lot to get home and I heard this voice swearing angrily and it sounded like someone was being hit over and over again from behind someone's big ass truck in the back of the lot. I went to go check it out, see if I could break up some idiots fighting over a girlfriend or something..." Dean trails off and draws in a breath, brow furrowing.

  
"We had Calculus together, I'd seen him in passing in the hallways, always with a group of friends... you'd never know..." Dean pauses for a second, shaking his head, then continues, "I rounded the truck and found Brandon's dad just wailing on him. He was obviously trashed, but he was massive, all muscle, so Bran was already half conscious. Had a split lip, eyes were already bruising. I got so angry... his kid lost a soccer match of all things, not to mention that Bran was his own son...".

  
"And?" Sam prompts, jaw tense as he watches his brother's expression.

  
Dean turns on his blinker and pulls onto the freeway.

  
"And I kicked his ass. Knocked him out, I barely remember the fight. Hauled Brandon up and we walked to a gas station down the road. I cleaned him up in the bathroom, wiped away the blood and then walked him home. He came up to me at school on Monday and asked to meet outside during lunch. His face was all beat to hell but when I walked up to him he gave me this huge grin." Dean says wryly, shaking his head.

  
"He told me that his dad was a drunk, had been since his mom died. I tried to apologize in case I had made the beatings worse by interfering but Bran just laughed a little and said his dad was so black-out drunk he didn't even remember the game, nevermind me beating his ass into the ground. So he just thanked me again and then he uh... he gave me a hug. Bran had a shit life, I was having a rough time too... guess I could relate... so I just, I just started crying", Dean stops abruptly for a second but Sam sits quietly without comment.

  
"We got real close after that, told each other everything. And then... I skipped school one day a few months later 'cause I woke up and found the whole kitchen trashed again, probably from dad coming home on one of his benders, looking for nonexistent extra cash to pay off some stupid debt again."

  
Dean hears Mary suck in a breath from behind him, but continues, unable to stop the words from finally, finally leaving his head.

  
"I brought you cereal in bed and made sure we walked out the back door to school so you didn't see the mess he had made again. I walked you to school but instead of continuing to the high school, I went back and was cleaning it all up when I heard someone knock. Bran had come to check on me, 'cause I only missed school when you were sick or if something needed to be cleaned up."

  
Sam nods and feels a strong pang of love for his big brother and a familiar ache of anger towards John.

  
"He helped me clean up the broken glass and trash and gave me another hug. He was weird about that, always said that with lives like ours, if we didn't get human contact at least once a day, we'd start to lose our ability to "emote properly". Said he read that in some science article or something." Dean rolled his eyes at the road, and Sam can still see the affection in his eyes.

  
"Guess he kind of broke through to me right then, it was the second time that week that Dad had created some crap mess and there was barely enough money left in the jar to buy a freaking candy bar. I was tired and hungry and here was someone I didn't have to pretend with... so, I don't know..." Dean scowls at himself and forces it out.

  
"I kissed him."

  
Sam nods for him to go on when Dean glances over. Dean takes a deep breath and finishes the story.

  
"I kissed him, and he kissed me back and we just stood there with garbage bags in our hands, probably looking like idiots, but I felt this little flicker of hope, or happiness or something, but a few minutes later I heard this deep voice yelling and pain in my head and then it all went black, cause I guess Dad had walked in the door and we were both too distracted to notice. I woke up in the hospital, with you sound asleep in the hospital bed clinging to me like a freaking octopus." Dean scoffs fondly, shooting a glance at Sam and then looking back at the road.

  
"Dad was there too, but he just looked at me when I opened my eyes and then walked out. I talked to the nurses, apparently Dad had told the hospital that I'd gotten into a fight with some kid from school. I had a broken arm and my ribs were bruised to all hell. I guess I was in a coma for a day with a concussion, cause when Dad knocked me out, he didn't stop."

  
Dean hears a small shuddering breath from behind him and a quick glance shows Mary with tears filling her eyes and a fist to her mouth, glaring at the floor of the car. He feels a quick pang of guilt that is washed away with determination, because he refuses to pretend that John was a good father any longer in front of his mom, she deserves to learn the truth.

  
"When Dad... when John finally came back he sent you to get me something to eat, and then spent the time alone with me reaming me out about being a 'faggot' and a 'disappointment' and 'Winchester's aren't fairies son, and if I ever find you with another boy again I'm leaving you behind and you'll never see your brother again'." Dean stops, cursing the crack in his voice.

  
"So I didn't tell anyone, I ignored it for so long that the next time I ever looked at a guy was after John died. Not all of those random bar hookups were women" Dean mutters, flicking a glance to his little brother and shrugging, his lip quirking up slightly in a bitter smile.

  
Sam looks furious, tears filling his eyes.

  
"I hate him." Sam blurts out.

  
"Sam..." Dean sighs.

  
"No Dean! I hate him. I was always angry with him before but this?! I hate the man for doing that to you. I knew he hurt you Dean, I never believed you when you made up stories about fighting at school! But I never did anything! Dean, I'm so sorry I never did anything... and then I left you to go to Stanford... god Dean...",

Dean hears the uplift at the end of every word and the hitching breath that is so familiar to him; the telltale signs of a specific type of crying whenever Sam is beyond frustrated or sad, a type of crying that tells Dean he is barely holding back deep, heartbroken sobs.

  
He remembers this type of crying from some of the first memories of his little brother, and the pride he used to feel as a kid when he could hold him and calm him down. Dean had that control, that calming affect throughout the years, even through high school, before Stanford.

  
Dean puts on his blinker and pulls over, waving his hand out the window at Cas, who pulls up behind him and looks ready to jump out of the truck to inquire as to what the problem is.

  
Dean locks eyes with Cas in the mirror and watches as Cas nods to him and sits back to wait. Taking a deep breath, Dean turns to his brother who has his elbow resting on the window sill, fist at his mouth and shoulders trembling with tension. Dean can't see his brother's face but he grasps Sam's neck and pulls his brother to face him.

  
Sam may be in his thirties, but to Dean no time has passed between his gangly little teenage brother to the tall, muscular man that sits before him. He manhandles Sam so that he can wrap his arms around his big little brother's shoulders.

  
Sam presses his wet face against Dean's shoulder and balls his hands in Dean's flannel, gripping it tightly, trying to collect himself and lean into the strength and warmth of his big brother.

  
"Alright Sammy, it's fine, look... I'm fine, John's gone... Cas is alive", Dean murmurs, rubbing his hands in a practiced circular motion, the repetitiveness serving to calm Sam in the way it's always done.

  
Sam tightens his grip on Dean, sliding his arms around his waist in a real hug.

  
"Sorry." Sam says quietly.

  
Dean just holds him tighter, until Sam pats his back gently a few times and pulls back, rubbing his heavy lidded eyes in a way so reminiscent of his younger self that Dean shakes his head with a wry smile and ruffles Sam's hair, laughing as he huffs and bats Dean's hand away with a mock glare.

  
"Jerk" Sam grumbles.

  
Dean grins, "Bitch".

  
Looking in the rearview mirror, Dean takes in the wistful expression on Mary's face as she watches her two sons, a mix of sadness, guilt, anger, love and longing.

  
Meeting Cas's eyes in the mirror once more, Dean turns back onto the road, the truck following close behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think my goal is 5 chapters for this fic! Thanks for reading everyone! <3


	4. This Is Different

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm a sucker for sappy Winchester brotherly moments, sue me. They all talk instead of repress. Cas and Dean will have a real conversation in the next chapter, this one is just unabashed fluff :)

When they get back to the bunker, Dean parks the car in the garage and gets out without waiting for Sam and Mom.

He walks up to Cas's truck just as he puts it into park and has Cas's door open before he can even shut off the engine.

"Hey." Dean sighs tiredly, leaning up against the doorframe, his eyes darting over Cas's face with a naked fondness Cas is unused to seeing.

"Hello Dean", Cas responds, swinging his legs over the seat of the truck to face Dean, balancing his elbows on his knees, which brings their faces closer together and even in height.

They watch each other for a few minutes at this close proximity before Dean gives in, ducking his head a little under the roof of the car to press his lips sweetly against Cas's.

Pulling away with a soft noise in the back of his throat, Dean brushes a lock of Cas's hair off his face and slides his hand down to stroke his thumb along Cas's cheekbone.

Cas can't help but grin, a feeling of elation rising in his chest.

Dean chuckles at the broad smile and the scrunching of Cas's nose.

"What?" Dean asks softly.

"You make me very happy", Cas responds, darting forward one more time to peck a quick kiss on his cheek.

Cas watches with astonishment as redness brushes across Dean's face and an almost self-conscious smile tugs at his lips.

"Yeah, you too." Dean says gruffly, brushing his knuckles against Castiel's jaw and pulling back, holding open the door.

Cas slides out and locks the truck when Dean shuts the door behind him.

Dean brushes past him, rubbing a hand along Cas's back discretely, and walks towards the bunker door, catching the duffle Sam tosses at him from the trunk of the Impala.

When they enter the bunker Dean drops his bags by the table and walks into the kitchen calling, "Beer anyone?", over his shoulder.

"Please", Mary calls back.

As he grabs four beers from the fridge, Dean can feel Sam's large presence lurking by the door.

Turning, Dean makes eye contact and raises an eyebrow.

"Just... I wanted to ask, how long? Cas I mean...", Sam says softly, searching Dean's face.

"Come on, Sammy" Dean starts, huffing a breath, but Sam interrupts.

"No, Dean... I want to know how long you felt this way about him, I want to know how I missed it. Please?" Sam says earnestly, walking closer to lean against the counter next to Dean. 

Dean places the beers behind him on the counter and faces his little brother, crossing his arms as if to offer protection.

"Always Sam," Dean finally says hoarsely, "I mean, at first he pissed me off, with his self-righteousness, arrogance, crazy sex hair..." Dean trails off when he sees a spark of amusement fill his little brother's eyes and turn up the corner of his mouth.

Dean rolls his eyes and continues, "I guess I always thought he was a dick, but a hot dick, and then he rebelled and we became friends, and I've never really had a friend like that, and I knew I loved him but I also knew it was different from how I love you... what?" Dean asks as Sam breaks eye contact and ducks his head.

"You, ah... you haven't said that to me in awhile that's all", Sam mutters, clearing his throat and smiling self-consciously at his brother, but Dean can see the emotion in his eyes.

Dean leans closer to bump shoulders, jostling Sam against the counter.

"Come on Sammy, you know I do." Dean says gruffly.

"Yeah me too", Sam says, his face almost immediately splitting into a wide smile, and as he shoves back the flops of hair that have fallen into his face, Dean once again catches a glimpse of a younger, more puppy dog, less muscular version of his little brother.

"You're too easy, kid" Dean mutters back, rolling his eyes again and grabbing the beers to bring out to Cas and Mary, sliding one over to Sam across the countertop.

Walking through the doorway, Dean startles as he feels Mary beside him.

"Were you eavesdropping?" Dean asks incredulously, coming to a halt.

Mary gives him a smug but somewhat guilty grin in answer.

"I wanted a chance to talk to you but I didn't want to interrupt", she admits, moving them to the side to allow Sam to pass.

"Join you in a second Sam", Dean tells his brother and Sam nods, clapping his shoulder and walking down the hallway to join Cas in the War Room.

"You two. You're so good with him", Mary muses, looking after Sam thoughtfully.

"So you were eavesdropping." Dean says, grinning at his mother.

Mary grins back ruefully, but her face shifts to a more somber expression as she studies his face.

"I want to apologize." Mary starts.

"Mom..." Dean protests.

"No, let me say this. I want to apologize. You grew up too fast, both of you did, and you had to become a parent... I never wanted that for you, Dean. And John... I don't even want to believe that's what he turned into."

"He wasn't always like that," Dean sighs, "But he became obsessed, hunting took over his life and he just shut down. Closed off. Refused to be open-minded about anything."

Mary releases a breath, and Dean can visibly see her struggle to keep tears from filling her eyes.

"Mom, it's okay. I forgive you. We've all made deals to save the ones we love. It's in the past, the important thing is that you're trying now." Dean tells her.

Mary feels a pang of guilt as she thinks of the phone in her pocket, the messages between her and the Brits, but she just smiles tightly and leans over to hug her eldest so she doesn't have to look him in the eyes.

"Come on, take a beer" Dean says, holding one out to her and cocking his head towards the War Room.

"Booze, then bed", Dean announces as they join Sam and Cas.

He chooses not to comment on the sudden silence that met their arrival and the wateriness of Sam's eyes as he quickly grips Cas's forearm from across the table and leans back in his chair to take a draw from his beer.

Dean slides into the seat next to Cas, smiling to himself when he sees Cas's trenchcoat draped over the chair-back, reveling in the idea that Cas feels comfortable here, with him.

Cas locks eyes with him as Dean drapes an arm around the back of his chair.

Mary and Sam watch the silent conversation occurring across the table from them, a gentle calm falling over the four of them, most likely temporary, but valued all the same.

"Here's to not being dead", Cas says suddenly, a sort of pride in his voice at coming up with a Winchester-worthy statement, clinking bottles with everyone at the table. Sam scoffs at the very Dean-like comment as Dean himself rolls his eyes at Cas.

Glancing over, Cas notices a small, barely there flicker of pain in Dean's eyes. Cas's gaze softens and he presses a kiss to his cheek in apology. Too soon most likely.

Heat rises in Dean's face, so he combats it with a swig of beer, but brushes the tips of his fingers gently along Cas's shoulder from where his arm rests on the back of Cas's chair.

"You two are gross. I'm going to bed", Sam groans, downing the last of his beer and pushing himself out of the chair.

Mary rises with him, "Goodnight boys", she says, squeezing Sam's arm and giving Dean and Cas a smile.

"Night Mom", Sam and Dean say in unison, not seeming to notice or care, due to the regularity of their synchronicity, but it incites a startled look from Mary that only Cas notices. He offers her a smile and tilts his head at the brothers with a shrug.

Mary's mouth quirks up and she slips out to her room.

Sam rounds the table to collect their bottles, the brothers clasping forearms when Sam reaches a hand over Dean's shoulder as he passes.

"Night Sammy" Dean murmurs.

"Night Dean, Cas" Sam responds, saluting them with the empty bottles as he heads towards the exit.

"Goodnight Sam" Cas answers, before standing and dragging Dean up with him.

"You look exhausted. And you smell." Cas tells him.

"Always the charmer", Dean mutters grumpily, glaring at Cas in mock irritation.

Cas just rolls his eyes and pulls Dean down the hallway to the showers.

"All right, all right! Jeez. You're so pushy" Dean gripes, shoving at Cas's hands in amusement.

Cas just looks at him with an eyebrow raised, "You shower, I'll go get you clothes".

Dean grins cheekily and places a smacking kiss on his mouth, "Yes dear".

Struggling to hide a smile and failing, Cas gives Dean one more push and stalks off to Dean's room.

Once there, he finds a faded t-shirt with one of Dean's bands on it and a pair of soft sleep pants. As a second thought, Cas reaches into the dresser and pulls out a second pair of pants and shirt for himself.

Walking back to the shower room, Cas finds Dean already standing in one of the stalls, face pointed up towards the water and steam filling the air.

"Here are your clothes", Cas calls to him, tossing them on a bench and finding his eyes drawn to droplets of water rolling down Dean's freckled shoulders.

"Thanks!" Dean responds and peeks over the small divider between showers to find Cas unbuttoning his shirt and tossing it into the laundry hamper next to the door, already filled with Dean's dirty clothes.

"Can't you just mojo those clean?" Dean asks curiously.

"My 'mojo' is drained at the moment, the wound from the staff is gone but my grace itself is still healing," Cas responds, then adds wearily, "Or what's left of it."

Dean doesn't say anything, just watches his face with a frown, Cas focused on folding his undershirt. Dean continues to stare, lost in thought, until Cas reaches for the button of his pants, at which point Dean coughs lightly and ducks his head back under the spray of water, turning the knob so that it turns from red to blue, shivering slightly as cool water rushes down his body. 

Down boy, Dean thinks to himself, ignoring the stirring in his abdomen and focusing on scrubbing the blood from his hands and fingernails.

Cas steps into the shower next to him and when he hears Cas moan with pleasure as hot water beats down on his back, releasing the tension knotted along his spine, Dean has to physically restrain himself from slipping into the stall and wrapping Cas in his arms.

You're taking this slow, Dean tells himself, this is different. Cas is different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Last chapter hopefully up tomorrow! Comments and kudos always appreciated, ya'll are awesome! <3


	5. This Feels Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff, love, cuddles, Sam has a bun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm writing this on 4 hours of sleep after a 10 hour work day so I don't even know how this turned out. If it sucks I'll probably go back and fix it, but for now I'm saying screw it, I'm just gonna post it when I get up for work and hope for the best LOL.

Dean gets out of his shower, wraps a towel around his waist and walks to the sink.

He hears the water shut off a few minutes into shaving and can see Cas shuffle up behind him, watching as Dean taps his razor against the side of the sink.

Their eyes meet in the mirror and Dean feels entangled in the incredible blueness of Cas's gaze.

Finally Dean sighs, "Should we...".

"We can talk before we sleep Dean, be patient," Cas responds, drawing up behind him closer to loop his arms around Dean's waist from behind and rest his chin on Dean's shoulder, expression fond.

Dean shivers slightly at the feeling of Cas's bare chest pressed to his back, skin damp, but warm and soft.

Dean tilts his head back to rest it against Cas's, relaxing into the position, a sensation of awe rising in his chest at how natural it feels.

"I like this." Cas says simply, eyes soft and seeming to caress Dean's face where they look at each other in the mirror.

Dean just presses back against his chest harder and shuts his eyes, letting Cas hold him up and support his weight. Dean has never felt comfort or trust to this extent before. He is amazed that this is Cas, his best friend, and that Cas isn't running in the other direction. It makes Dean want to bask in every moment, no matter how quiet or seemingly uneventful.

After a few minutes, Dean pulls away to dig under the cabinets for an extra toothbrush.

"Here, if you have to shower, you'll probably need to brush your teeth", he tells Cas.

"Thank you" Cas responds, squirting toothpaste on his brush and then leaning over to do the same for Dean.

They fall into a comfortable silence, moving around each other seamlessly, seeming to predict each other's movements.

They get dressed quickly, eyes lingering when the other is not looking, but otherwise having no contact, seeming to have a mutual understanding that whatever they have is going to be taken slowly.

"I don't think I'm going to be able to fall asleep right now. Wanna watch a movie or something?", Dean asks quietly when they enter the hallway again, bare feet padding softly against the floor.

Cas nods, and follows him to the den leading off from the kitchen that Dean and Sam had converted into an entertainment room.

In reality, it only contains a tv, a stack of DVDs, a battered wooden coffee table and an old couch, (which sagged in the middle), that Dean had picked up at a tag sale on the other end of Lebanon.

Dean walks to the TV and pops in a disc at random, then moves back to the couch, grabbing Cas's wrist where he stands by the armrest and tugging Cas down next to him.

They sit comfortably for about half an hour, barely paying attention to the screen. Dean finds himself intently focused on the places where Cas is leaning against his body. Their bodies align from shoulder to hip, legs pressed together and kicked up on the table.

Halfway through the movie, Cas shifts onto his side facing Dean and rests his head on Dean's shoulder, slinging a leg over Dean's on the table and wrapping an arm around his middle.

"Would you like to talk now?" Cas asks quietly, talking over the soft murmur of the television.

Dean shifts his head back and cranes his neck so they can look into each other's eyes, only inches apart.

Cas watches as Dean opens his mouth to speak, but stops, eyes flickering away with a hint of trepidation.

Understanding that Dean needs space to talk, Cas sits up with his back to the television and faces Dean, criss-crossing his legs.

"I don't know what you want me to say... or how to start I guess", Dean says, wincing at his own words.

"Dean." Cas sighs, "I told you I love you, you told me that you love me. I'm not human, I don't understand the complexities of human courting, but to me this seems straightforward, does it not? If two people love each other the way we do, then they should be... 'together', 'a couple', 'boyfriends', 'lovers', however you wish to label it."

"Jesus, Cas..." Dean mutters, turning red at his bluntness.

"Dean, it would be best for both of us if you just spoke your mind. Please." Cas requests earnestly.

Dean takes a deep breath, staring into the angel's eyes, then pushes himself into a more upright position to level with Cas.

Dean gingerly grasps one of Cas's hands with his and looks down at where their fingers press and weave together.

"Okay, here's the thing. This," Dean raises their hands a little, "...this is new to me, not just the fact that you feel the same way and that you're a dude, but the scary, churning feeling in my stomach that tells me how important this relationship is and can have the potential to be. I've never, not once, felt this way about anyone, not even with Lisa and Ben. I mean, to be completely honest, my relationship with her was a last ditch effort to get out of the hunting life and push aside the feelings I had for you."

Cas's eyes show intense focus, flickering over Dean's face, listening intently.

"So I guess what I wanted to tell you was that I'm terrified. I'm scared that I'll lose you, that I'll say or do something wrong and screw this up, that you'll die, or I'll die, or that I'll wake up and this will just be a dream... but Cas," Dean interrupts his rambling, squeezing Cas's hand tightly within his own, "Cas I want to try. I owe it to you, and I think I owe it to myself. I want the chance to try to make you happy." Dean finishes, eyes pleading with unabashed determination and affection.

Cas looks at Dean with an unreadable expression for a few seconds, before leaning forward slowly to cradle Dean's head in his hands and look him directly in the eye, only inches away.

Dean watches as that damn grin spreads across Cas's face again, scrunched nose and all, before he leans forward gracefully to press his lips to the center of Dean's forehead.

"I love you too, Dean." Cas whispers softly against the skin there, drawing an embarrassing whimper from Dean.

Dean reaches out, twisting one hand in the back of Cas's t-shirt, and running the second through Cas's dark locks, soft and silky strands between his hands.  
He leans forward the last few remaining inches and kisses Cas.

They move together slowly, Dean pushing Cas back onto the cushions and resting his weight lightly on the angel's. They kiss languidly, and deeply, but don't touch more than gentle caresses of the back or face.

Eventually Dean feels himself start to fade, exhausted after the physical and emotional trauma of the day, and they slow to a halt, simply pressing their cheeks against one another and breathing each other in. Dean lies on his stomach, half draped over Cas, who is on his back, supported by the armrest. Dean's head lies sideways next to Cas on the pillow, his arms the only thing preventing Dean from tumbling onto the floor.

"I don't think this couch was made for two grown men", Dean grunts, but he melts into Cas within seconds of settling in.

"I won't let you fall", Cas murmurs into Dean's forehead.

Dean huffs a breath, eyes sliding shut without his permission, "M'so in love with you," Dean mumbles a few seconds later, nuzzling his face into Cas's neck like a child.

"The feeling is mutual, Dean Winchester", Cas responds, kissing his hair one last time.

Cas can feel Dean smile against his neck before his breathing evens out and his body becomes heavier with sleep.

Cas can feel himself getting drowsy as well, and where he would normally curse the drain in his grace, Cas realizes he is thankful that he can naturally experience falling asleep and waking up next to Dean, at least once. He knows that in the future, he could simply power down into a meditative state while Dean slept, but this is a different experience altogether, so he will treasure it.

 _This feels right_ , Cas thinks amazedly as he drifts off, tightening his grip on Dean.

•••

_***Beep, beep, beep!!!!***_

Sam groans loudly as he smacks around the nightstand for his phone, cursing himself for forgetting to turn off the alarm before he went to sleep. He had promised Mary he would try to sleep in today, especially after the night they had.

"Shit! Motherf...dammit!" Sam curses again, stubbing his toe as he stumbles towards the door, his hair a tangled curtain obstructing his vision.

Pushing his hair back impatiently, Sam quickly ties it up into a knot on the back of his head with an elastic he may or may not have stolen from Mary for this exact reason.

Walking into the kitchen, Sam makes a beeline for the coffeemaker, turns it on, puts fresh grounds and water in, and sets a clean mug under it. Sighing tiredly, he leans his back against the counter to wait.

Rubbing sleep out of his eyes, Sam catches a glimpse of a dim glow coming from the doorway of the movie room, through which he can see a large lump inhabiting the shitty couch Dean insisted on buying.

Walking quietly to the doorway, Sam peers in curiously and feels his eyes widen at the sight of his brother cuddling...CUDDLING... Castiel, Angel of the Lord. Sam smirks to himself and snaps a picture on his phone for future blackmailing purposes, but sends a copy to Dean anyways.

Their heads are pressed close together and as Sam contemplates for the millionth time how much of himself Dean actually hid, he realizes that Cas is waking up.

Feeling strangely voyeuristic, Sam watches as Cas glances at the blank television screen that is producing the blueish glow, then immediately down at the sprawled-out human that is Sam's big brother, resting comfortably along his body and in his arms.

Sam watches Cas's face carefully, realizing that now is his chance to see his friend without a mask.

What Sam sees in Cas's eyes makes his breath hitch, and he hears Castiel's words from last night in the War Room echo through his mind. ' _Sam, your brother is everything to me. I have no doubt that I will never not love him. Do not be concerned about my commitment to him. My love for Dean is forever_ '.

As Sam watches, Dean shifts in his sleep, brow furrowed in what looks like pain or grief, clenching his fist into the fabric of Cas's t-shirt.

"Cas!" Dean shouts loudly in his sleep, making Sam jump, heart rising in his throat at the sudden noise.

Dean continues with a few more incomprehensible words, but Cas runs his hands up and down his back, exerting pressure and whispering in Dean's ear.

Within seconds, Dean's face is lax and young again, his body sinking into his angel's and his fist unclenched.

Sam watches with a smile, and catches Cas's eye with purpose when Sam shifts his weight to more fully occupy the doorway.

"Coffee?" Sam asks in a whisper.

Cas nods, sending Sam a smile.

When Sam walks away, Cas looks down at Dean and touches his face to trace his cheekbone and the angles of his nose.

Dean's nose twitches and he cracks one eye open, "What the hell're you doing to me, angel?".

"Good morning Dean", Cas responds, brushing his lips across Dean's face wherever he can reach; eyelids, nose, cheeks, chin and finally his mouth.

When Dean finally pulls away a minute later with a breathless gasp, color has risen in his cheeks and his eyes are dazed with love and pleasure.

Dean can hear Sam and Mary start talking in the kitchen, but he ignores them and focuses on his angel.

They lay quietly amidst the sound of the coffeemaker, and the low rumble of voices. The two of them bask in each other's gaze for a few more minutes, breathing in unison, and unbeknownst to them, with even their heartbeats aligned as one.

 _This feels right_. Dean thinks to himself, with no way of knowing that his innermost thoughts mirror Castiel's sentiments exactly.

 _This right here. This is it_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter is okay LOL
> 
> In the words of Chuck... "Endings are hard. Any chapped-ass monkey with a keyboard can poop out a beginning, but endings are impossible. You try to tie up every loose end, but you never can. The fans are always gonna bitch. There's always gonna be holes. And since it's the ending, it's all supposed to add up to something. I'm telling you, they're a raging pain in the ass." 
> 
> This quote feels so relatable and accurate right now, but also I'm tired and delusional so time to sleep.
> 
> Thanks for reading guys, it's been real! You're all awesome! :D <3

**Author's Note:**

> I have a few chapters for this written already so they will be posted soon once I edit them for the 1000000th time LOL. Comments appreciated :D Thank you for reading! You are all wonderful, valid and loved! :D


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